I had the godchild with me last night while the Whoreshoes were off being big, big rockstars in SF last night (huge picture in SF Chronicle yesterday! Yay!).
I’d been at work all day, worrying about taking care of him — I had to get him to sleep quickly, so that I could go to sleep also. Joni would come to pick him up around 1:30am, and I’d get up for work 3 hours later. And dude, it was stressing me out. I mean, I had to go home and take care of a BABY! On a work night! And of course, a coworker told me, "Don’t worry, I think he’s too old to worry about SIDS."
GREAT. I hadn’t thought of that, but now I was worried.
Then we had an 18 month old die in a horrible way (I work fire/medical dispatch, in case you’re just browsin’ here), and I decided I wouldn’t sleep EVER when he was around.
But I couldn’t do that, of course. I would have to suck it up and Be Brave.
Joni brought Dylan over about 7pm when I got home from work. I was going to put him down to sleep about 9, and then follow him to bed about 10pm (getting up at 4:30am to work makes my eyelids droop early). I gave him a bottle, wrapped him in his blankets (she still swaddles him, which he loves), and tucked him in our bed, surrounding him with pillows so he wouldn’t roll off. He was asleep within thirty minutes, minimal fussing, no crying. Then I got in bed a bit later and proceeded to watch him breathe. I watched that child like he was tight-roping in his onesie across Niagara Falls.
But I drifted off and woke up a few minutes later. The HORROR! Was he okay? Touched him, felt his breath. Oh, thank god, he was fine. Lather, rinse, repeat. I did this for a LONG time, sleeping in three or four minute bursts. Then I spent a long time waking up every time he would slither up to the top of the bed which he did every fifteen minutes or so. I’d drag him down and reposition him and go back to sleep until he frog-kicked his way back up again.
That boy got a lot of sleep last night. I did not, and OHMYGOD, how do you people do it?
I did have a stunning moment of clarity at work yesterday, when I realized that the reason that no one was really bowled over with my Big News that I had to watch a BABY after work was that they all HAD kids at home, and some had infants. They were remarkably tolerant of me, actually. They did that each day, every day. It was as if I’d gone up to any regular working person and exclaimed, "Oh, my god, I have to work ALL DAY tomorrow! Can you imagine? All day!"
I remain amazed by mothers. Y’all are crazy, and you’re doing a good job.
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